The blonde raised her head, gazing up the long expanse of Camís
torso. "Thatís not what your body is saying." She rested her cheek against Camís
thigh, one hand softly stroking between Camís legs. "Besides, I'm not done yet."

Cam gently insinuated her fingers into the hair at the back
of her visitor's neck. She tugged softly. "Come up and lie beside me," she whispered.

Claire slipped from between Cam's legs and moved up to recline
against Cam's body, resting her head on Cam's shoulder. Her hand lay lightly
on Cam's belly.

Cam shifted slightly, brushing a kiss across Claire's forehead.
"Let me make love you," she said softly. It was the first time she had ever
suggested it.

"That's not what this is about. I don't need you to do that."

"I need to," Cam insisted. "After all this time, I want to give
you something back."

Claire nodded, hearing what Cam wasn't saying. She knew that
Cam wanted more than to thank her. Cam wanted to say goodbye. Over the years,
there had been many goodbyes. This was one that was going to be hard.

"Just hold me," Claire requested. "That's all I need."

Cam was weary, too weary to protest. She cradled the other woman
closer, closed her eyes, and tried to empty her mind. She tried not to think
about her anger and confusion every time she imagined Blair making love to yet
another stranger. She tried to ignore what she knew very well was jealousy.
She tried to ignore the simple fact that she wanted it to be her that Blair
was caressing.

Claire ran her fingers lightly over Cam's flushed skin, tracing
the outline of her ribs and hip, stroking the soft curve of the underside of
her breasts, smoothing the flat of her hand over the taut muscles of her stomach.
Slowly, Cam relaxed under her touch.

Eventually, Cam's thoughts were eclipsed by an awareness of
her bodyís response to Claire's attention. Her skin began to tingle, her leg
muscles tightened, and her hips began to rock slightly as her clitoris once
again swelled in anticipation. This time, her urgency was gone, and she allowed
herself the luxury of simply accepting the pleasure. Her mind collapsed into
a single point of sensation, centered within the pulsating pressure between
her legs. She groaned, and lifted her pelvis higher, silently urging Claire's
hand lower. Her breath escaped on a sigh as two fingers enclosed the shaft of
her clitoris, milking it slowly and firmly from the base to the tip. She felt
wetness spread along the inside of her thighs, and when one soft stroke brushed
the warm moisture over the exposed tip of her clitoris, she moaned again.

"God, that makes me want to come," she murmured breathlessly.

Clara smiled faintly, her fingers slipping inside, then back
out and upward, a steady rhythm that matched Cam's unconscious movements. She
sensed the building pressure, and felt the tender tissues beneath her fingertips
thicken even more, swelling to the point of explosion.

Cam gripped the sheets convulsively in her left hand, her right
arm holding Claire tightly. She turned her face into the sweet comfort of Claire's
hair, and allowed her body to surrender to the inevitable. As her stomach clenched
and a hoarse cry was wrenched from her depths, Blair Powell's face flickered
across the inner surface of her eyelids.

**********

300 miles away, Blair stood in a small apartment on the fourth
floor of a building in Greenwich Village. She casually studied the clothes hanging
on a rack that had been pushed into the corner of a small bedroom, seeming to
have forgotten the woman who had brought her there.

"Nice collection of ties you have here," Blair commented as
she fingered the lengths of silk and cotton draped over a hanger at the end
of the rack. Without looking at the other woman, she continued, "Let's see what
kind of use we can put these to. Why don't you take your clothes off and lie
face down on the bed."

The young butch stared at her in amazement. Clearly, Blair's
shoulder length blonde hair, tight white T-shirt, full breasts and graceful
carriage did not necessarily spell 'femme'. As much as she hated to relinquish
her butch dominance, she was intrigued and more than a little excited by the
commanding town in Blair's voice. Trying to maintain her façade of nonchalance,
the dark-haired body builder removed her leather and denim, pulled off her briefs,
and shed her boots and socks. Naked, and feeling more than a little uncertain,
she lay face down on her own bed, welcoming the pillow that allowed her to hide
her face.

Blair crossed to her side, and slipped a loop fashioned from
one of the ties around the woman's right wrist. She ran the length of fabric
over the mattress and around the bed frame, quickly following suit with the
other wrist and both ankles. Once the woman was totally immobilized, she removed
the pillow.

"I want you to be able to breathe. But keep your eyes closed."

Blair stepped back, lit several candles she had noticed on the
windowsill, and placed them on the small bedside table. In the flickering candlelight,
she allowed herself to study the woman's body. She was beautiful. Smooth tight
skin; muscles rippling under the sweat-slick surface; thick lustrous hair just
beginning to curl at the base of her neck. Her face in profile was sharply defined
and arrogant even in repose. Altogether she was a fine specimen of young butch
sexuality. Still, Blair struggled not to compare her form to the long lean lines
of Cam's body. She did not want to remember the alluring maturity etched into
Cam's elegant features, or the smoldering sensuality in her dark eyes, or the
aching softness of her full lips. Blair had tried to eliminate the memory of
Cam's arms around her with hours upon days of work in her secluded loft, and
she had failed. The only way she could drive thoughts of Cam from her awareness
was to fill her senses with the sight, and sound, and feel of another woman.

Still fully clothed, she climbed onto the bed and stretched
out on top of the woman. She ran her fingers over the surface of the bound woman's
arms, her lips and tongue tasting the salt at the base of her neck, sucking
her ear lobe into her mouth. Dimly, she heard a groan as she captured the soft
skin along the jaw between her teeth, tugging lightly, quickly erasing the pinpoints
of pain with a kiss. Blair's captive struggled to turn her face, desperately
seeking Blair's lips with her own. Blair ignored her, sitting up slightly so
that she could trace the muscles of the other woman's shoulders and back and
flanks, ending at her well-formed buttocks. Blair moved down the bed, her fingers
kneading the thick gluteal muscles, pushing and separating them, exposing the
cleft between them to her view. She traced the puckered muscle with a fingertip.

"Oh please," the young stranger moaned, an edge of fear in her
voice.

"Quiet," Blair said softly. "I won't hurt you."

She knelt between the strong quivering thighs, lowering her
face until she could trace the delicate tissues with her tongue. The tight sphincter
spasmed as she pressed inward, her lips softly stroking the outer rim. She sucked
lightly, then ran her tongue deeper into the cleft, tasting for the first time
the thick heady juices of her young lover's desire. She ran her tongue lightly
over the swollen lips, tracing the folds and furrows, circling the thickening
clitoris, moving tantalizingly from one spot to the next.

"If --oh god, you make me want to come -- so badly," gasped
the young woman.

"Soon," Blair murmured. She was lost in the sensations-- the
smell, the incredible softness, the welcoming heat and enticing juices. This
was woman, any woman, every woman. As she pressed her face deeper, immersing
herself, she felt her lover's impending orgasm begin to build. Blair stretched
out full-length on the bed, her arms encircling the woman's waist, her lips
and tongue frantically stroking and caressing the engorged tissues. As the body
beneath her convulsed, amidst sobs and cries and choked moans, Blair squeezed
her eyes tightly closed, wanting to know only this incredible moment of intense
connection. Even with the woman climaxing in her mouth, Blair couldn't help
but wish that it was Cameron Roberts surrendering to her touch.

**********

Cameron rolled over and fumbled for the phone on the bedside
table. The digital clock read 4:45. She was disoriented as to where she was
and exactly what time it was. The bed beside her was empty, but there was a
lingering warmth that suggested it had recently been occupied. As the phone
rang insistently, her eyes adjusted to the dark and she recognized her own bedroom
in Washington D.C. As her hand lifted the receiver, her mind registered her
recent flight from New York and her frantic attempts to forget Blair Powell
in the embrace of another woman.

"Roberts," she growled, trying to ignore her unsettling thoughts.

"It's Mac, Commander. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought
you would want to know--"

Cameron sat up abruptly in bed, her mind crystal clear, but
her heart pounding. "Is it Egret? Is she secure?"

"Yes ma'am," Mac hurried to assure her. "We have her under constant
surveillance, and we know exactly where she is. But we did receive another contact
from Lover Boy."

That was the name the security team had given the UNSUB who
had left the note at Blair's door.

"What is it?" Cam queried as she swung out of bed and began
searching the room for her clothing. She noticed a folded sheet of note paper
on her dressing table, and slipped it into the pocket of her trousers.

"Photographs," Mac said grimly. "There's a very good close-up
of Egret leaving the apartment building yesterday afternoon."

"Son of a bitch. That means he's been watching the building,
from somewhere close by. How did you get them?" Cam was hastily buttoning her
shirt and threading a narrow leather belt through the loops of her pants. She
had found one shoe and was peering under the bed for the other.

"Stark noticed a manila folder propped up against the mailboxes
in the lobby. It had Egret's name on it."

Cam stopped abruptly in the middle of the floor, a shoe in one
hand, her portable phone in the other. She felt a brief thrill of elation. "Then
we've got him! There are video cameras all over that lobby as well as the entrance.
We must have an image of him. I want all of the tapes brought up to the command
center for review. Also, run a check on all the license plates of cars parked
around the Park Ė then call the cab companies for recent fares to Egret's block.
I'll catch the next commuter flight. Assemble the entire team, day and night
shifts, at 0700."

"Yes ma'am," Mac snapped.

"And Mac," Cameron continued in a quieter voice. "Get Egret
back to her apartment."

There was a beat of silence over the phone line. Mac cleared
his throat, choosing his words carefully. He wasn't sure why, but he felt uncomfortable
delivering the next information. "Uh, Commander--at the moment, Egret is with
an unidentified female, who almost certainly does not know Egret's identity.
If we roust her, there is no way we'll be able to guarantee silence regarding
her identity."

Cameron flashed back to the young woman Blair had been fondling
in the bar. Of course Blair would have gone home with her. And why not? She
was just the kind of conquest Blair would thrill to.

"Then I want her in a car the minute she steps out onto the
sidewalk. And Mac--if anyone loses her, it's their job."

"I guarantee I will have her back here ASAP." As he hung up
the phone, he said a fervent prayer that he could deliver on his promise.

Chapter seventeen

At 06:59, Cam walked into the command center and strode to the
head of the table where the other agents were gathered. Despite her lack of
sleep, she looked focused and intent. Without preamble, she said, "Let me hear
the analysis on the photograph."

Jeremy Finch, a short, mildly overweight, bespectacled agent
cleared his throat. He was the resident nerd, the computer genius and technical
wizard. "We've analyzed the potential elevation and angle of view by extrapolating
from the available shadows and the known time of day. Basically, the photograph
was taken from one of the buildings facing Egret's across Gramercy Park." He
looked down at the tabletop uncomfortably.

"That leaves us with a lot of potential sites, Agent Finch."
Cameron stared at him, biting back another sarcastic remark. It wasn't his fault
that he couldn't manufacture evidence.

Finch nodded almost miserably. Like every other agent in the
room, he had come to value his position on this team, and felt a sense of loyalty
to his intense, demanding Commander. "Yes ma'am, I know that. What it does tell
us is that the shooter has a fixed location, rather than a vehicle. Therefore,
there is a better chance of finding him, since he may be relatively stationary."

Cameron nodded. "You're right. We need to get a list of every
occupant of every building on each side of the Square, not just the street directly
across from this building. You'll need to check realtors, building managers,
and also any corporations which lease apartments for use by employees. It's
possible that this UNSUB is only here intermittently when business demands it."

"We have people assigned to begin the reconnaissance at the
opening of business hours," Mac interjected.

They spent a few moments reviewing other methods of narrowing
down the list of potential perpetrators who might have access to the surrounding
buildings. Finally, Cameron looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each
of her agents.

"I'm going to have to report this to the White House. At this
point, we must assume that Blair Powell is in imminent danger of either an assassination
or abduction attempt. I'm going to recommend that she be secluded for the time
being until we can carry out our investigation. It is possible that this investigation
will be removed from our jurisdiction--" she held up her hand for silence as
the agents shifted in their seats and murmured in protest.

"I know how you feel, and I think that we are the best people
to protect her as well as to get to the bottom of this. But situations like
this often become political, and it's possible we will have nothing to say about
it. If it comes to that, I expect total cooperation with whoever is running
the investigation. Remember, the bottom line is Egret's safety. There is no
room for ego or personal gain where she is concerned."

Cameron walked through the command center to the elevators and
left the building without speaking to anyone. She crossed the square to her
own apartment and shed her clothes immediately upon entering. She went to the
bathroom and into the shower. She turned the cold water on full and let it blast
the fatigue from her body and her mind. She was furious. Furious that someone
dare threaten Blair Powell for no other reason than the position she represented.
She was furious at herself for allowing her feelings for Blair to interfere
with her duty. She was furious that the thought of any harm coming to Blair
terrified her.

When the phone rang two hours later informing her that Blair
had returned to her penthouse apartment, she was seated in front of her large
bay windows, dressed in a starched white shirt, black silk trousers, and a charcoal
gray silk jacket. She had been waiting for the call, her mind uncommonly still.
She felt sure of herself for the first time in weeks.

**********

"What's the emergency?" Blair asked more abruptly than she had
intended. She stood across the room from Cam, having barely gotten out of the
shower when she had been informed that her security chief was on her way up.
"This isn't a very good time. Can't we do this later?"

She had not seen Cameron in the ten days since they had returned
from the ski resort. She had worked feverishly, spending hours applying paint
to canvas -- sweeping abstract vistas of anger and longing and frustrated desire.
When finally her emotions had run dry, she looked up from her easel and felt
the walls of her loft closing in on her. Cameron's unbidden image still haunted
her. The comfort of Cam's embrace on the airplane had been harder to forget
than the sexual desire she had felt previously. Lust was something she could
control, ignoring it if necessary. What she felt for Cameron Roberts was something
she hadn't experienced since she had been innocent enough to believe in love.
More than anything else, it frightened her.

"There's been further contact from the stalker," Cam said flatly.
"A photograph was left -- a photograph that makes it clear that he's been watching
you. It may be nothing more than his way of letting us know that he's around
Ė empty posturing. But it may also be an indication that he's escalating. I
have to assume that to be true."

Blair took a deep breath. "What do you intend to do about it?"

"I thought it only right to inform you first that I am flying
to Washington later this morning to conference with the Chief of Staff and my
bosses. I would anticipate that a task force will be formed to investigate and
apprehend this individual."

Blair said nothing, turning to look out her windows into the
park below. She thought she knew how a caged animal felt. "What will that mean
for me?"

Cameron saw the rigid set of her back, and heard the slight
tremor in Blair's voice which she tried to hide. For an instant, Cam wanted
to take Blair into her arms and comfort her. Instead, she forced herself to
say, "I would imagine you'll be moved out of the city until he's apprehended."

Blair spun around, her blue eyes nearly purple with fury. "You
mean they'll close me up in some compound with guards 24 hours a day, as if
my life were so insignificant I could walk away and leave everything behind."

"No! As if your life were too important to risk for single moment!"

"Bullshit!" Blair spat. "The only thing you people care about
is protecting the reputation of the United States government and the people
who run it."

Blair turned on her heel and stalked to the opposite side of
the room, stepping behind a half-wall partition that enclosed her sleeping area.
After a moment, Cameron followed. Blair was hastily throwing clothes into a
suitcase.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing?" Cameron said, a deadly
seriousness in her tone.

Blair didn't bother to look up. She threw jeans and underwear
into the bag, searching on the dresser for her wallet and keys.

"I'm getting out of here. I wouldn't suggest you try to stop
me. I don't think my father would be pleased if I were man-handled by one of
his Secret Service agents." Then she reached for her bag and was stunned when
Cameron grasped her forcibly by the shoulders, stopping her in her tracks.

"You listen to me! I don't give a fuck what your father
thinks! I don't even give a fuck what you think! You're not leaving
this apartment."

For a brief second, Cameron became every person who had ever
conspired to keep Blair a captive in a life she had never chosen. A life she
had been forced to live by virtue of her father's ambition. She swung her hand
at Cameron's face, lashing out not at the woman who had done nothing more than
attempt to protect her, but at the faceless many who had carried out their orders
despite her wishes.

Cameron intercepted the blow with her left arm, angry not at
Blair for attempting to strike her, but at Blair's stubborn refusal to accept
that she was in danger. Cameron's fear surfaced on a wave of uncontrollable
desire. She pulled Blair into her arms and covered Blair's lips with her own.
She kissed her roughly, her hands pinning Blair's arms to her sides as she pressed
her body hard against Blair's. For a moment Blair was too stunned to react,
but there was never an instant of resistance. When she felt Cameron's mouth
on hers, she kissed her back, her tongue pressing urgently to join Cameron's,
her arms clutching Cameron's waist, her legs straddling Cameron's thigh tightly.

Cam's breath rasped in her chest as reason threatened to desert
her. She wanted Blair so badly, and her body was racing beyond her control.
She groaned, moving her head enough to bury her face against Blair's neck. Blair
arched her pelvis into Cam and tilted her head back, exposing her neck as if
for sacrifice.

"Oh oh god, Cameron god please -- touch me," she managed to
gasp.

The sound of Blair's voice sliced through Cam's consciousness,
paralyzing her as awareness crashed upon her.

My god, what am I doing!

Cam halted her feverish caresses, but did not let go of the
woman in her arms. Instead, she cradled her closer, pressing her lips to Blair's
ear.

"I have to," Cameron murmured in anguish. "I have to." She couldn't
do this, not again. She couldn't feel this much, she couldn't want this much,
she couldn't be this vulnerable. She had not touched another woman with passion
since the morning she had last made love to Janet. Six hours later she had held
her lover as she lay dying. She had vowed never to feel the longing, nor the
loss, again.

Blair pushed away from her unsteadily, running her trembling
hands through her hair. Her eyes were bruised, from passion and from the pain
of Cam's rejection.

"No, of course you can't. It's not in your job description,
is it, Commander? You can't feel anything for me because it would interfere
with your duty. Isn't that right?"

Cam willed her voice to be steady. "When I meet with the others
in Washington later today, I'm going to resign from this position. Whatever
you may think of me, I will not jeopardize your safety by remaining. I can't
do my duty, simply because I can't think of you as just another assignment."

Cam turned to leave.

"Wait!" Blair called.

Something nearly helpless in her voice caused Cam to stop.

"I have to attend the opening of the new children's wing at
the city hospital this afternoon at three. Can't this wait until after that?
It's been arranged for months, and there are children who might not Ė be there
- later."

Cam nodded slowly. "I'll leave for Washington right after that."

**********

At two thirty Cam stood outside Blairís door, dressed much the
same as she had been that morning. She had changed shirts, substituting a pale
gray silk for the white. Blair opened her apartment door, her eyes meeting Camís.

"Will you come in with me?" Blair asked in an unusual display
of vulnerability.

"Every step," Cam said quietly.

Blair wore a simple black sheath, a string of gray pearls at
her neck. Her low heels brought her to exactly Camís height. Together they were
a striking couple. As Blair stepped to Camís side, Cam touched her hand softly.

"It will be all right."

Three other agents joined them as they exited the elevator and
moved toward the lobby doors. Mac had the limo waiting at the curb, the rear
door open. The bright afternoon sunlight outside the large glass doors cast
a blinding glare directly into their faces. Stark and Johnson exited first,
followed by Cam and another agent - Blair between them. Automatically, Cam looked
up, squinting into the sun, scanning the buildings across the small square.
She sensed rather than saw movement flickering somewhere in the haze that silhouetted
the ornate cornices along the rooftops.

Cameron Roberts' instincts were her guiding force Ė the one
thing in her life she neither questioned nor doubted. She stepped quickly in
front of Blair, pushing her backwards into the shelter of the entrance. Blair
looked more confused than frightened.

Cam must have tripped, because the next thing she knew, she
was kneeling on the sidewalk, trying to catch her breath. A cacophony of cries
filled her head as agents screamed into their mikes.

Code red, code red. ÖOh fuckfuckfuck!Ö.

"Get her inside," Cam ordered, but her voice came out a whisper
on a plume of red mist. She had her gun in her right hand, but it was very difficult
to raise her arm. She turned her head with effort, her vision oddly blurred.

Blair was surrounded by secret service agents who were half
carrying her back into the building. Blair appeared to be struggling, screaming
something, her hand outstretched toward Cam.

Sheís safe

Camís mind was quite clear, and she relaxed, accepting the strange
lassitude that suffused her. She rolled slowly onto her back, opening her hand,
letting her gun rest gently on the sidewalk. She stared up into the bluest sky
she could ever recall, then peacefully closed her eyes as her heart stopped
beating.